


Unsleazed

by WhyUsWriteUs



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: AU, Fluff and Angst, Gay John, Hatchetfield Universe, M/M, Mild Language, No Smut, Pining, bi ted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyUsWriteUs/pseuds/WhyUsWriteUs
Summary: ON HIATUS! Ted's sleazeball image wasn't working for him anymore. A chance encounter with General John McNamara would be the key to dissolving this image. Mostly fluff. Some angst. Mild pining. All the good stuff. Enjoy :)
Relationships: Ted/John McNamara
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

Ted sat at a table in the corner of Beanie's, on a rainy afternoon, brooding over his latte. His "sleazeball" image wasn't really working out for him anymore. At age 35 he didn't know what to do with himself. He took a sip of coffee and cursed when he burned his tongue. He was not having a good day. He leaned back, running his hands through his greasy brown hair. Looking around the coffee shop, he noticed his own feelings of dejection mirrored back at him on the faces of customers and workers alike. THIS was Hatchetfield.

"Maybe I should just move," he grumbled as he blew on his beverage and took tentative sip. _Better_. Suddenly, the restroom door opened behind him, hit his chair and sent his latte flying into his lap. Ted jumped up, fuming.

"Hey man what the fuck?!"

"Sorry, son" said the stranger, clapping Ted on the shoulder good-naturedly. Ted glared back at him. The man stood out from everyone else in the cafe. He had long, reddish-brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail and topped with a black beret. Actually, Ted noted, he was dressed completely in black, including combat boots and- _was that a bullet-proof vest?_ However, the oddest thing about the man was how his mere aura commanded the room around him. Ted had the fleeting thought that he would follow this man to the end of the Earth. Just then, he realized the stranger's hand was still on his shoulder. He shook himself out of his awestruck stupor and shrugged it off.

"Who are you anyway?" he said, grabbing some napkins and attempting to sop up the coffee from the front of his pants. "You some kinda cop or somethin’?"

The man stared at him so intensely that Ted had to avert his eyes.

"No son, I'm not a cop,” he said. His voice was somehow simultaneously smooth and raspy.

Ted waited for him to continue He didn’t.

"Okay then—” Ted began.

"-I'm part of something far greater," the man interrupted. Ted stared.

"And that is...?"

The stranger scrutinized him with his leg up on a chair and his arm resting on that leg. Even in this semi-relaxed position, he was extremely intimidating. Ted was entranced. After a while the man said, "What's your name son?"

"Ted. But you didn't answer my-"

"Well Theodore-"

"Ted."

"Theodore, if I told you what I did for a living, your brain would go into such a state of shock you'd be utterly catatonic for a number of weeks."

Oh, now he understood...the man was insane. Actually insane.

"You know what? I have somewhere else to be so I'm just going to..." he trailed off. The man was staring at him again, but his eyes were softer this time, his gaze less piercing. Ted was sucked into them, falling through the endless deep blue.

"Stay," was all the man said.

Ted sank down into a chair.

The stranger flipped his own chair around and sat with his arms folded across the back of it.

"I…am General John McNamara."

/////////////////////////////////////

They talked for hours in Beanie's, ordering coffee after coffee. Ted would pay one time, General McNamara the next without even talking about it. Ted wished the General would do most of the talking, but John was a quiet man. Thus, Ted was forced to talk about himself, something he hated doing. His life was a lot gloomier and far less interesting than John's. He soon discovered that he was able to get McNamara to open up when he was impassioned, but even then, the General spoke in vague platitudes. Nevertheless, Ted was enthralled. _Who was this mysterious stranger?_ Even after conversing for hours, Ted knew next to nothing about him. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to leave.

Eventually, a barista (the crabby one who refused to sing) approached their table, "Look the cafe's closing. You guys gotta go," she said in a less-than-friendly tone.

"Thank you, ma’am. Rest assured we'll be taking our leave promptly," responded General McNamara with a tip of his hat. She rolled her eyes and walked away. Ted flipped her off. John chuckled.

"What?" Ted asked indignantly.

McNamara fixed his eyes on him for the billionth time that day. Once again, Ted had to look away.

"Come on. Let's go."

///////////////////////////////////////

They left Beanie's and, to Ted’s great relief, it had stopped raining. He wasn't sure when John was planning on going home, so he set off down 19th street. He didn’t complain when John fell into step beside him. Ted was, generally, a loner. He had “friends.” He had babes. He definitely had enemies, but he brought it upon himself. He knew this, but that didn’t make it any easier. Then there was John, John was different. He saw past all that. It was like his piercing blue eyes could see straight into his soul. And Ted didn't know what to do with that. The General a pack of cigarettes out of his vest pocket as he and offered one to Ted who refused.

"I didn't take you for someone who smoked those cancer sticks," Ted muttered eyeing John.

McNamara took a long drag. "Why are you so hostile Theodore?"

"I told you, my name is Ted. And I'm not 'hostile,'" he scoffed.

They continued to walk in silence. Ted didn’t realize where he was going until he was stopped in front of his apartment do. McNamara dropped his cigarette and snuffed it out with the toe of his boot.

"Look man I'd invite you in or whatever but-"

John held up a hand. "That's quite alright Theodore. I must be going anyway. I have…important business to attend to."

"Business?” Ted glanced at his watch. “At 10pm?”

"Yes Theodore, business. I just wanted to make sure you made it home safe."

Ted felt his cheeks get warm and he was immediately annoyed with himself. "Yeah well. Thanks," he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his next.

"You're welcome," McNamara saluted him, turned on his heel, and strode off.

Ted watched him disappear around the corner. What a strange day. He shrugged. _Well, I’ll probably never see HIM again._

Oh how wrong he was.


	2. Chapter 2

Ted spent his weekend drinking himself stupid, trying to drive General McNamara from his mind. _The bastard_ , he thought to himself as he took another swig from his almost-empty whiskey bottle. _Who does he think he is? Coming up to me at Beanie's and then walking me home like I need protecting. Asshole._ He drained the bottle, tossing it haphazardly to the floor. It was late Sunday night; a perfect time to go to Charlotte’s because her husband usually worked weekends. He hoisted himself up from the couch and promptly fell back down again. His head swam. _I'm really fucked up_ , he laughed. _Eh. All the better to fuck Charlotte with._ He rose to his feet (more carefully this time) and stumbled out the door.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ted stopped on the corner of Charlotte's street and pulled out his phone. He didn't like to just show up, in case Sam was there. Ted knew the douchebag was a dirty cop, so he didn't want to get on his bad side if he could help it. The phone only rang once.

"Hullo?" Charlotte's sleepy voice answered.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey babe. Were you sleeeeping? Why don't you sleep with me instead eh heh heh heh?" _I'm good at this_.

"T-Ted? A-Are you drunk?" Charlotte asked, sounding much more awake and a little concerned.

" _You’re_ drunk."

A sigh issued from the other end of the receiver. Ted swore he heard a muttered, "I wish," but that was probably just his addled brain imagining things.

"I'll let you in."

"Yeah you will," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Look toots, I don't know what happened but it's probably your fault," Ted spat angrily at Charlotte an hour later.

"YOU'RE the one that came HERE, Ted!" she shouted back. She was crying. He hated it when she cried.

The argument had broken out not too long after Ted arrived. He had poured her a drink (making one for himself as well) and they settled into their usual routine: drink, have sex, he leaves. However, when it came to the second part, Ted just...couldn't. He'd never had this problem before. He was angry and confused, so he lashed out. They'd been yelling at each other since.

"Well I came here to fuck you, but maybe my dick finally had enough of your mopey-ass mood. That's probably why your husband won't fuck you either." He regretted it as soon as he said it.

"Get out,” she whispered.

"Listen Char I-"

"Get. OUT!" she screamed, forcefully throwing his clothes at him. "And stay away from me."

"Fine!" Ted stomped out of the house as upright as he could, slamming the door behind him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and began his walk of shame. _What the hell happened?_ It was eating him up. He had tried to the point of chafing to get it up for Charlotte, but it wouldn't happen. The alcohol wasn’t the problem. They always did it drunk. He kicked at a rock, unbalanced himself, and fell into the street. As he forced himself onto his hands and knees, a random thought infiltrated his mind. _What if...instead of going to Charlotte's, I had gone to McNamara's?_

Ted retched in the street.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The continuous ringing of the office phones aggravated Ted's pulsing headache. It was 8 in the morning. He was surprised he even showed up for work. He’d managed it, but he was hung over and as irritable as ever. A few desks down, Charlotte was doing her best to ignore him. Every once in a while, she'd shoot him a sideways look and he'd flip her off. Then she'd turn up her nose like HE’D started it. _Whatever, I have bigger things to worry about_.

Ted put his head down on his desk, thinking as hard as his migraine would allow.

He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. He tossed and turned most of the night, trying to banish McNamara from his thoughts. He wasn't homophobic. Sure, he was a self-proclaimed asshole, but being a homophobe would make him a hypocrite too. The thing was, he'd never had any real feelings for any of the dudes he'd been with previously. They were all one-night stands. He’d top them and leave immediately after, never wanting to get too invested. He knew it was just him being insecure, but he refused to acknowledge it. Then this McNamara character shows up and threatens to ruin it by existing. _I hope I never see him again._

"Hey Ted. Ted!" His coworker Paul was shaking his shoulder. He'd fallen asleep.

"What?"

"I'm going to Beanie's. Wanna come?"

Ted’s heart leapt at the thought of running into McNamara again. It was sickening. "Why are you asking me if I wanna come, huh?"

Paul looked confused."...Because you always get pissed when I don't invite you? But never mind." He turned and walked away.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck," Ted groaned, rubbing his face with his palms. He glanced at the computer. It was only 10 am. All he wanted to do was crawl back into bed and not have to think about his headache or McNamara anymore.

Melissa tapped on his shoulder.

"God, now what?" he snapped.

"Mr. Davidson sent me down here to tell you have a call on line 1," she said, "But you don't have to be so rude."

 _That's weird_ , he thought as she walked away, _I never get calls on my personal line._ He grabbed the receiver.

"This is Ted. How may I help you?"

"Hello, Theodore."

Ted slammed down the phone, heart beating rapidly. _Why? How? How is McNamara calling me at fucking work?!_ He tried to calm himself down. People in the office were giving him weird looks. As his breathing slowed, his eyes fell on the phone. A tiny green light blinked next to line 1. Once again, he picked up the phone, his hand shaking ever so slightly.

"Hello?" he said slowly.

"Meet me at 3231 Cherryview Lane at 1800 hours."

The phone went dead. Ted was, for lack of a better word, flabbergasted. No one had ever ordered him around like that before. It was like McNamara just expected him to show up. _I'm not going. I'm a grown-ass man. Who does he think he is?_ This internal mantra continued until the end of his shift.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ted stepped out into the cool twilight air and stretched. It had been a long day, but at least his head didn't hurt anymore. He looked at his watch. 5:30. He was supposed to meet McNamara at 6. _Welp, looks like I'm not going._

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ted walked into the ice cream parlor at 5:58. He scanned the tiny shop and immediately spotted McNamara at a small, two-person table in the back. Ted made his face look as off-putting as possible and plopped down in the opposite seat. Those endless blue eyes bore into Ted’s very being. Ted cleared his throat.

"Why'd it have to be an ice cream place?" he said, wrenching his eyes away from McNamara's to gaze around the frilly pink shop.

"Well Theodore, I like ice cream," McNamara answered nonchalantly.

Ted snorted.

Just then, a waitress came over, balancing a tray laden with two ginormous banana splits.

"Here you are, gentlemen,” she said, “two jumbo banana splits with the works.”

"Thank you, ma'am," McNamara responded with extreme politeness. Ted saw him slip a $10 bill into her apron pocket as she walked away. He was in awe. No one in Hatchetfield was ever this nice. _Where did this guy come from_?

"Why did you order for me?" asked Ted, nodding toward the banana split. "How did you know I would even want anything?"

McNamara stopped with his spoon halfway to his mouth. Ted saw the corners turn up just a little. "Ice cream is good for the soul, Theodore."

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

When Ted had scraped the bottom of his bowl clean, he sat back and burped, rubbing his belly.

"Feeling better?" asked McNamara.

"How did you—Yeah, you know what? I am feeling better. Thanks for the ice cream, man, but I'm gonna head out now." He really was feeling better, but he wanted to leave before he started feeling weird about McNamara again. As he stood, McNamara put a hand on his wrist.

"A moment please, Theodore?" And there it was, the weird feeling. Ted slowly lowered himself back into the chair.

"Okay, but first I get to ask you some questions and I want REAL answers, not that mystical, fortune-cookie bullshit you've been spewing."

McNamara grinned. Ted's heart skipped a beat. _Fuck._

"I will answer to the best of my ability."

"Pfft fine. First off, how did you know where I worked?"

"When we were at Beanie's on Friday, I noticed your business-casual attire. There’s only one corporate building on that side of town that's an equal distance from there and from your house. Easy."

Ted scoffed. _Yeah, easy_. "Well, why are you following me in the first place? It's weird, man."

"I apologize for that. I've taken a very special interest in you."

 _Damn, am I…blushing?_ "What for?"

McNamara fixed him with a serious look. Ted shied away from its intensity.

"I require your assistance with a mission of utmost importance.”


End file.
